Melt
by WinterSky101
Summary: "Prince Hans," the man hissed. Hans could see a smile curl across his face. "Just the man I was hoping to be." (Or, in which I try to explain Hans' betrayal in Frozen by insisting that it wasn't actually him.)


**In honor of Frozen 2 being officially on the way, I decided to post this. Don't get me wrong - I loved Hans as a villain in the movie, and I thought it was a very interesting plot twist to throw in, but I also felt so betrayed because, before that point, I had been rooting for Hans over Kristoff. And hey, if Elsa can freeze all of Arendelle, I don't think it's too far-fetched to think that someone could have the power of impersonation. As for Hans having fire powers, I think that would make an incredibly interesting parallel to Elsa's ice powers and I entirely subscribe to the theory.**

**Quick note: It's implied that Hans' parents were abusive, and his brothers are horrible in bullying him as well. If you find that sort of subject matter triggering, you may not want to continue reading.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Frozen.**

* * *

Hans raced into the ice palace, taking the stairs two at a time. He had seen the Duke of Weselton's men go into the castle, and he had no trust for them or the Duke they served. Hans feared the worst as he raced into the room.

The picture he saw was very different from the one he feared.

Elsa was alight with fury, pinning one of the Duke's men with one hand and threatening the other with a huge slab of ice with the other. Hans heard muttering from behind him, but ignored it; his men's fear wasn't his biggest problem.

"Queen Elsa!" Hans shouted, hoping to catch her attention. "Don't be the monster they fear you are."

Elsa seemed to snap out of her rage, looking around as if she were seeing her surroundings for the first time. Her hands fell to her sides slowly as she relented, stopping the ice from sliding towards one of the Duke's men and lowering the spikes that threatened the other's neck. Hans could see the fear in her eyes as she turned to him and longed to help, longed to tell her that he understood…

But one of the men was pointing his crossbow at Elsa and was about to fire.

Hans ran over and shoved the crossbow up just as the bolt flew free, soaring towards the chandelier of ice that hung directly over Elsa. The bolt hit the top and split it neatly, sending the chandelier into a downward plunge. Elsa's eyes went wide as she gathered up her skirt, running forward and collapsing as the chandelier crashed into the floor. There was a cacophony of noise, then silence.

"We must kill her!" one of the men following Hans cried out, reaching for his sword. Hans put his hand out to stop him, acting with the authority Anna had given him.

"No. We will take her back to Arendelle. There, we can see if she can reverse the winter. When Princess Anna returns, she will pass judgement."

The men didn't look pleased, but they didn't dare disagree. Hans stepped forward, gathering Elsa up in his arms. The cold creeping under her skin clashed with the heat humming under his, but he only shifted his grip to hold her tighter. The rest of the men followed as he carried her down the stairs and gently positioned her on his horse to carry her back.

"We should bind her hands," one of the men suggested. Soon, all of the others were nodding and agreeing, leaving Hans no choice but to do as they said.

"Very well," he replied, pulling a length of rope out of his saddlebag. He had brought it just in case something went wrong. Something definitely had, but this wasn't the use he had intended for the rope at all. One man passed Hans his gloves, shrugging as Hans looked at him in askance.

"The gloves the queen wore seemed to help limit her powers. Perhaps mine can do the same."

The gloves were too big for Elsa's hands, but Hans positioned them as tightly as he could before binding her wrists with the rope. He mounted his horse, sitting behind Elsa and wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off.

"Shall we leave?" he asked. His men mounted their horses as well, but one hesitated.

"What of the Duke's men?" he asked. Hans looked back up the castle, where he could see one of the men on the balcony. They had disobeyed his direct order and tried to kill the queen.

"We leave them," Hans replied, looking away. "Leave their horses here. Perhaps they will make their way back to Arendelle, but perhaps not." The man hesitated for a moment before mounting his horse as well. Hans turned towards Arendelle and began to ride, and after a moment, all of his men followed him.

* * *

The dungeon in Arendelle was freezing. Hans had been the one that insisted that Elsa be tucked under a blanket, but he still felt that she should not have been left there, with the stone walls that seemed determined to soak up any heat. Then again, Elsa didn't seem to be bothered by the cold, so Hans hoped she wouldn't be bothered by the dungeons.

Elsa had clearly just awoken as Hans entered her cell, placing a lantern by the door for some light. "Why did you bring me here?" Elsa demanded.

"I couldn't just let them kill you," Hans retorted, crossing his arms over his chest in the hopes of trapping some body heat. Elsa looked desperate.

"But I'm a danger to Arendelle," she replied. "Get Anna."

Hans' heart clenched. "Anna has not returned," he replied. Elsa looked out to the storm, worry evident on her face. Hans took a step towards her. "If you would just stop the winter, bring back summer…please." He knew it couldn't be that easy, though, and he was confirmed by the desperation in Elsa's eyes as she turned back to him.

"Don't you see?" she whispered, sincerity in her eyes. "I can't." Hans' heart sank, even though he had expected that answer; he couldn't stop the winter if Elsa couldn't. "You have to tell them to let me go."

Hans sighed. "I will do what I can," he promised, turning to the door. Elsa watched him as he left; he could feel her eyes on his back. He would do what he could; he hadn't lied to her. But he wasn't sure there was anything he could do. The others demanded results. They wanted the winter ended, and he was fairly certain that some of them, like the Duke of Weselton, would do anything to make sure that came to pass.

Hans sighed, running a hand through his hair. He had to figure out something to do. Elsa wasn't evil, he knew it. And Anna needed her sister more than she would ever admit. The idea of doing anything to hurt Anna made Hans feel sick. He had to stall, protect Elsa the only way he could.

Then a hand grabbed Hans by the arm and dragged him into an empty cell.

Hans could barely see in the darkness, but he could discern features. A man was in front of him, probably about his age, perhaps a little older. "Prince Hans," he hissed. Hans could see a smile curl across his face. "Just the man I was hoping to be."

No, Hans must have misheard that. He must have said "see," because saying "be" wouldn't make any sense at all. Not at all.

"Who are you?" Hans asked, sounding official and not as if he were entirely unnerved. The man grabbed Hans' head suddenly, pressing their foreheads together as he prevented Hans from running away.

"You," the man said in Hans' voice as he pulled away. Hans' heart stuttered. The man in front of him was now his own mirror image. Hans watched in disbelief as the man flexed his hands - he was even wearing an exact replica of Hans' clothes - and smiled cruelly.

"Thank you for letting me use your image," he said, his tone making Hans' blood run cold. "I'll be sure to put it to good use."

With that, the man slammed the door of the cell, trapping Hans inside. "No!" Hans yelled, but there was no one down there to hear him other than the one that had trapped him. In desperation, Hans ripped off his gloves, pressing his hands to the stone.

Elsa wasn't the only one with powers.

The wall heated up quickly, but not quickly enough. Hans knew that, even with his abilities, it would take hours, maybe days, before it would melt all the way through.

He was trapped.

* * *

_"Hans!" a panicked voice cried out. Four-year-old Hans just laughed, his arms elbows-deep in the fire. It didn't hurt, just caused a pleasant tickling sensation. Cnut, his seven-year-old brother, didn't seem to understand that._

_"Mother!" Cnut screamed. Their mother came sprinting, letting out a shriek when she saw Hans. "He won't stop!"_

_"Hans, what are you doing?" Hans' mother cried, grabbing Hans and hauling him away from the fire. Her eyes went wide when she realized his arms were unharmed, despite their time in the fire. "How did you do that?"_

_"It's fun!" Hans replied, beaming. "Look what I can do, Mommy!" Concentrating hard, Hans caused a little fire to pop into existence on his palm. His mother cried out, making Hans lose his focus. He looked up at his mother, suddenly a little unsure. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked in a small voice._

_"What did the little freak do this time?" Einar asked, entering the room. At fourteen, and as the oldest of the thirteen brothers, Einar thought he was infinitely superior to all the others. He was followed, as always, by Gunnar and Ingvar, the thirteen year old twins. The looks on their faces made Hans feel cornered and he fought the urge to cry. He was four years old now, not a baby, and he would act like it._

_"Go get your father," Hans' mother instructed Einar in a firm voice. Einar did as she asked, knowing better than to argue with her while she was in that sort of mood._

_"Did I do something wrong?" Hans asked again. His mother turned to him, her fear badly disguised._

_"What you did, Hans… It's not natural. You mustn't do that again, do you understand?"_

_"But it's fun, Mommy!" Hans protested. His mother shook her head._

_"You can't do it, Hans. You must promise me you will never do it again." Hans nodded dejectedly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Good. We'll just forget this happened, shall we?"_

_"Okay," Hans replied, looking down. His mother put a finger under his chin, lifting his head._

_"Hans. It's for the best."_

* * *

_"Do you hear something?" Einar asked a snickering Gunnar and Ingvar. Hans stomped his foot in frustration. Einar, Gunnar, and Ingvar had been pretending he didn't exist for _two years_, and he was sick of it. He almost wanted to cry, but he didn't; he was nine years old and far too much of a young man to act like such a baby._

_"I don't hear anything," Gunnar replied as Ingvar snorted with laughter. "Do you, Ingvar?"_

_"Nope," Ingvar replied, smirking._

_"Stop ignoring me!" Hans protested. His brothers didn't react. After two years, they had perfected their technique and were very good at pretending Hans wasn't there._

_"Hmm. Must be nothing," Einar replied. Hans clenched his fists, his temper reaching a fever pitch. After two years of this, he was ready to explode._

_"Yeah, no one but us here," Gunnar replied. Ingvar nodded._

_Hans exploded._

_Suddenly, flames were everywhere: setting the curtains alight, licking their way across the floors, turning the table into an inferno. Einar cried out. Gunnar and Ingvar fell off their chairs. Hans gritted his teeth, the flames jumping higher._

_"I'm right here!" he yelled over the crackling of the fire. "Stop pretending I'm not!"_

_"Mother!" Ingvar shouted. "Father! Come help!"_

_Hans' parents burst into the room quickly, seeing what was happening. The flames had created a wall around Hans, not about to let anyone in. He didn't know how to control it, how to get the wall to go away. Considering the looks on his parents' faces, however, he probably wanted to keep it for now._

_"Hans, you get out of there right now! Put these fires out!" Hans' mother cried. Hans shook his head resolutely._

_"Einar, Gunnar, and Ingvar were being mean to me," he replied. "They've been pretending I don't exist for two years, and no one has done anything to stop them. I hate it!"_

_"If you don't put these flames out, you'll be sorry, young man," Hans' father shouted. The flames were starting to die down by themselves. Hans didn't know how to get them back to their old potency and watched helplessly as they puttered out._

_A hand gripped the back of his shirt. Hans gasped as his father dragged him from the room and down the hall._

_"You will wear these at all times," he told Hans sternly, grabbing a pair of gloves out from their winter clothes. "And you will never, _ever_ do that again. Do you understand?"_

_"I understand," Hans mumbled, slipping the gloves on. His father nodded sharply, turned on his heel, and left._

* * *

_When the message came from Arendelle that Queen Elsa was having her coronation, Hans leapt at the chance to escape the Southern Isles._

_"I could go represent our family at the coronation," he suggested to Einar, now the king, when he complained about the inconvenience. Einar scoffed._

_"You, represent our family?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "I think not."_

_"I can be diplomatic, Einar," Hans replied, desperate for the chance. "I swear I will make you proud."_

_"You missed that opportunity years ago," Einar replied. That stung, but Hans resolutely didn't show the hit. "But if you insist, I suppose it will get rid of you for a while. Go, then, and do not bring shame upon our family. If you do, I promise you will regret it."_

_"I will not," Hans replied, a pleasant warmth curling in his stomach at the thought of being able to escape his family for quite some time, considering the trip to and from Arendelle._

_"And don't you dare show how unnatural you are while you're there," Einar added. "You don't need to let everyone know that you're a freak."_

_"Of course not," Hans replied, clenching his fists behind his back. Einar nodded._

_"Very well, then. Leave." Hans took the opportunity, bowing and leaving the room. As he did, he felt warmth under his skin._

_The idea of escaping had never before been so attractive._

* * *

Hans could hear that something was happening in another cell, most likely Elsa's. He yelled and screamed until his throat was hoarse, but no one heard him. The door was melting, yes, but not nearly fast enough. The stone was too thick. No matter how much power Hans poured out through his hands, he couldn't manage it.

Hans could control his powers about as much as Elsa could control hers - that was, not very much at all. That was why he hadn't even tried to fix her eternal winter himself; he didn't want to turn Arendelle into a desert. He could only hope that Elsa would figure out how to reverse it before too long; the cold made him especially uncomfortable, considering the heat that thrummed under his skin.

The sounds died away, leaving Hans in silence. He kept trying, pouring more and more of his powers into the door, but he knew it was futile. Then, suddenly, after Hans had been waiting for quite some time - and after the dungeon had gotten suddenly, inexplicably warmer - the door opened.

Hans' double was on the other side, a disgruntled look on his face. "Things didn't go as planned," he stated. Hans watched in shock as the impostor's face melted back to his own. "You'll deal with the fallout for me, won't you?" Before Hans could say anything, he was grabbed again, shoved into a different cell, and locked in.

Time passed. Hans had no idea what was going on, but he got the feeling that whatever fake-him had tried to do had failed. He could only hope that meant that Elsa and Anna were alright.

At dawn the next morning, Hans was grabbed out from his cell while half-asleep, dragged to the docks, and thrown into a small cell onboard one of the ships.

"I will return this scoundrel to his country," he heard one of the dignitaries say. "We shall see what his twelve big brothers think of his behavior."

Hans' heart sank. Whatever his double had done while wearing his face had obviously been horrible. And if he were being left to the mercy of his brothers…

Hans sighed, curling up in the corner of his cell. If he were being left to the mercy of his brothers, he didn't have much hope at all.

As the boat sailed away from Arendelle, Hans knew he was leaving his freedom - and quite possibly his life - along with it.


End file.
